long walks

oh to feel little,
to feel limited,
left not right.
who am i,
subjected to longs,
lifted to paths palpably lush,
landscapes impossibly lavish.

leave me here,
time and capacity not limited,
left not alone,
but to linger in a lavish lovely,
mutual longing.
here simply to listen,
loiter in a life of less,
melting into goodness
constantly looming,
loved ‘til i relent,
exposed ‘til nothing left.

lead me here,
when that space feels left,
wondering if the lovely is less,
finding the terrain lacking lush,
may you still be found lavish.

so lead me,
even if led to languishing,
lead to touch the longing,
then lead me through.
even if led to leave the lush,
led to release the lament,
then lift me through.
don’t leave me here,
unless you’re found newly near.

we’ve gone left,
which i struggle to feel is right.
you’ve taught me new depths,
previously untouched by the light.
what luck, yet stuck,
the liminal doesn’t feel so lovely.
there’s urge to move through,
this cloud provides more dew than view.
so lead me,
even if you say linger.
i need light to break through,
always time left to reveal,
yet surprised to find inside,
this cloud, this soul,
something loftier.

for the walk is long,
and you’re not leaving,
patiently, a little later,
"look, lift your eyes,
the lavish is still here.”
the longing lovingly welcome,
the object of which comes to view.
no need now to be led,
no little left to lament,
now only long to linger,
again simply, to let.